Chapter 151 - As You Sow, So Shall You Reap (3)

At the news that a ship no one had ever seen before had appeared, the people of Soara began to gather like clouds.

The ship the dwarves had supposedly arrived on was more than enough to stir people's curiosity, and though unintentional, it was adding a warm excitement to people who had been huddled down under the uneasy state of affairs.

"... That's impressive."

People were flocking to the docks as if a festival had broken out.

Among that dense crowd were Haven and Otar.

Haven was being swept along by the surging flow of people and jostled this way and that, but his gaze alone remained fixed firmly on the ship.

"They said it moved on its own even with the sails folded?"

"Mm."

"How is that possible? Is it because of those waterwheels on the sides?"

"Hmm."

Haven was chattering nonstop in excitement, but Otar, who was supposed to answer him, had no mind to spare for it.

Because even now, he had to keep Haven balanced in place while Haven's gaze had been stolen away.

"A ship that moves on its own without relying on the wind..."

The noisy din rang sharply in his ears, and the swaying of the crowd was enough to make him feel seasick despite standing on land.

But to Haven now, only the dwarves' ship displaying its imposing form before his eyes was visible.

Even amid the shaking, his steadfast gaze looked much like that of the boy who had once stood atop the mud.

"I really want to ride it. Just once."

A cripple who, though he had never wished it, could not stand on his own two feet and so had no choice but to be swayed this way and that.

But the gaze with which he looked at the thing he admired did not waver.

Haven wanted that ship so badly, the ship that could move on its own without leaning on anything.

Like the desire slowly rising within Haven, faint smoke was spreading from inside the nameless dwarven ship.

According to the people who had been there since earlier, it was smoke that had been visible from the moment it first arrived.

※※※※

The mayor's office of Soara was filled with a fragrant scent.

Even Vlad, who knew nothing about tea, could tell from the aroma that it was expensive tea, but the dwarf staring at the teacup somehow looked grave.

"Hmm... Water steeped with scraps of grass is a little much."

It did not seem to be a simple matter of taste.

The dwarf who had introduced himself as Sigurson of Nidavellir was looking at Joseph with a subtle expression.

Judging by how the few dwarves with him also failed to hide their confusion, there seemed to be some kind of problem.

"If you dislike tea... shall I change it to liquor?"

"If you had liquor, you should have brought it out... from the start."

As if he had been waiting for those words, Sigurson's final tone rose greatly.

"According to our customs, serving tea is the same as telling someone to get lost. Of course, you did not know, so I understand why you did this."

"Ah. I see. Please excuse my discourtesy."

At Joseph's hurried glance, Vlad quickly opened the cabinet doors and began taking out the bottles of liquor Joseph treasured.

Unlike the West, the North had no exchanges with dwarves at all, so a situation like this was unavoidable.

"I was truly startled. To be honest, this is my first time in a case like this too."

Looking at the drinking cup that had finally been swapped in, Sigurson burst into a hearty laugh.

Because he did not want to needlessly sharpen his blade over a mistake born of mutual ignorance.

"I read the letter you sent. Our Village Head was quite pleased as well."

"... Is that so?"

Hearing Sigurson's words, Joseph lifted his teacup and hid a faint smile behind it.

Pleased, was he?

It had merely been meant as a gesture of goodwill, and the letter had not promised much, but apparently the dwarves too had things they wanted to try through the Northern Alliance.

"And the gift you sent along with the letter was pleasing as well."

"...?"

Sigurson raised his drinking cup and lifted it toward Vlad, who was standing nearby.

Everyone looked puzzled by his sudden action, but Sigurson of Nidavellir had reason enough to do so.

"Thank you. Vlad of Soara. For sending our children home."

"Ah."

As Vlad looked at Sigurson's winking eye, the events in Nassau began to come back to him.

"It was the first time dwarves sold off as slaves were returned to us. If not for that, I probably would not have gone out of my way to come all the way here."

What the human knight had sent to the dwarves had not been a simple single letter.

In the basement of the slave market disguised as a tavern, there had been not only the warrior Vulcano, but also many young dwarf children.

Those children locked inside iron cages would likely have wandered the West for the rest of their lives without ever returning home if it had not been for Vlad.

"We thought all humans were the same, but it seems there are some who act differently depending on the land they live in. We decided to try thinking of it that way."

"I see."

Though it had not been something he had done with any particular intention, Vlad's actions had been more than enough to earn great goodwill from the dwarves.

Because unlike the West, which had long treated dwarves like livestock, the people of the North who had newly occupied Nassau were sending them a different sort of message.

"I am a man who leads one of the twelve tribes that make up Nidavellir. I have authority enough to convey our opinion."

Were all dwarves like this?

Or was the dwarf called Sigurson special?

After downing his cup of liquor in one clean gulp, Sigurson began moving straight to the point without bothering to weigh this or that.

"We want to fuck up the West. We will handle it ourselves, but we need a little help."

"Uh, mm. I see. I had thought that might be the case."

For Joseph, who had grown accustomed to conversations between nobles, the pace of the conversation was almost impossible to keep up with.

Faced with the dwarves' way of speaking, which freely crossed between courtesy and rudeness, Joseph quickly began pouring whiskey into his teacup.

"Among them, those Gaidar bastards were especially sons of bitches. I heard your side is fighting them."

"That is correct. Though things are at a lull for now, someday we will have to see it through to the end."

Perhaps pleased by Joseph's expression that he would bring it to an end, not only Sigurson but even the dwarves with him began clapping their hands.

As the atmosphere slowly began turning into that of a marketplace, Vlad rolled his eyes around uneasily, and Jager began slowly touching his eyepatch.

The people of the North had not yet built up any immunity to dwarves.

"The enemy of our enemy is no different from an ally, so there must be something we can do together!"

Looking at Sigurson's hand thrust out as if that settled everything, Joseph began to feel flustered for the first time in a very long while.

A resolve for an alliance to be concluded with a single handshake.

Looking at Sigurson, who finished in the time it took to drink a single cup of tea what even Heinal, who had cooperated fully, had taken several days to do, Joseph could only grasp the offered hand.

"Let us work together. Bayezid and the Northern Alliance welcome Nidavellir."

"Good!"

He wondered if it was all right for things to proceed this quickly, but in any case, it was something that had to be done.

The dwarves, whose clapping had not even been in time with one another, now began looking at the bottles of liquor in Joseph's cabinet as if asking whether it was finally over.

Even though only enough time to drink a single cup of tea had passed.

※※※※

"What is this? What in the world is going on?"

Rose's Smiles had only just been lit up.

But Got, who had come running in urgently, had told them to empty the shop today.

Everything from the lobby to the guest rooms where guests would sleep.

"City hall got cleaned out."

"What?"

"Do we have a lot of liquor today? We'll need at least twice as much as usual."

Zemina, who had been anxiously waiting for Vlad in case something had happened, soon saw small men shouting in complete chaos from behind him.

They were only tall enough to barely reach Vlad's chest, but their shoulders were solidly broad.

On top of that, every single one of them had long beards, and their clothing and behavior were clearly unlike anything ever seen in the North until now.

"Are those people perhaps..."

"That's right. They're dwarves."

With a fed-up expression, Vlad shook his head and took hold of Zemina by both shoulders.

"They like meat. Meat over fish. And the stronger the liquor, the better."

"Okay, okay."

The look in Vlad's eyes as he faced her was no ordinary thing.

It looked just like the look he had worn back when he was a candle seller, when he said a real piece of work had come in today.

"And don't put out things like vegetables. They said potatoes are fine."

"Got it."

Joseph, who could hold his liquor but lacked stamina, had long since collapsed, and the only places capable of satisfying the dwarves still hungry for drink were the taverns in the back alleys.

Among them, the only place equipped with both decorum and scale was Rose's Smiles, so Vlad bringing the dwarves here was an entirely natural decision.

"Vlad, knight of the humans!"

"Yes, that's right. I am Vlad."

"Honorable rescuer of the children! You should have seen the sight when the children arrived!"

"Yes, yes. I would have liked to."

As soon as Vlad skillfully herded the dwarves inside like an employee, the food that had been waiting began to be placed on the tables.

Because there had been no time, simply warmed sausages came out first, but even that made the dwarves' eyes go wide.

"The people of the North know how to treat guests! Very good!"

"That sausage smells incredible!"

Satisfied by just the basic snacks, the dwarves each began making loud, boisterous noises and lifting the mood.

It was a level of merriment that even Vordan, who had come late to entertain Sigurson, found difficult to slip into easily.

"Please understand. Everyone was tired from the long voyage."

"No, it is understandable."

Nidavellir, the dwarf liberation front, was said to be based on an island.

They had come all the way upriver to Soara from that place in its secret location, so there was no way they would not be glad to see a proper meal after so long.

"Thank you for visiting all the way here. Even though it was only a single letter."

"Our timing and needs happened to align. It is nothing much."

Sigurson waved his hand at Vlad's words as if to say not to mention it, but it was certainly an exceptional move.

No matter that Vlad had rescued the children, they had gone out of their way to bring that great ship all the way here.

The connection with Nidavellir would likely become a great strength to Joseph, who was in the midst of competing for the position of Family Head.

"I heard there is a forge nearby? It may be hard today, but tomorrow I will take a look at your armor."

"No, that is all right..."

The direct reason Sigurson had come all the way to Soara was to answer Joseph's letter, but it was also to repay Vlad.

Because repaying goodwill with goodwill was a dwarven tradition, and through the symbol called Vlad, it was also a chance to strengthen relations with the Northern Alliance.

"Do not decline. The reason those western bastards try to use us as slaves in the first place is all because of our handiwork."

Even if there had been no exchanges, it was widely known that dwarves had exceptional craftsmanship.

After all, the reason the cavalry of the West were famous in the first place was because of the light yet sturdy dwarven-made armor and spears.

"Though metallurgy is not my specialty, I should still be better than most humans. So do not feel too burdened..."

But in truth, now that he was actually facing Vlad, Sigurson wanted to strip off Vlad's armor and take a look at it, apart from all that.

The finish was dented here and there, but it had been finely worked.

On top of that, even a glance showed him the devices prepared to offset impact.

It was clearly the work of a master craftsman.

"While I am at it, I will take a look at your sword too. For knights, is the state of their sword not directly connected to their life?"

"..."

Sigurson sent him a look as if telling him to show it once right here.

Seeing the strange shine beginning to gleam in his eyes, Vlad was not pleased, but there was nothing he could do.

"Asking a knight to draw his sword is discourteous, like offering a teacup to dwarves."

"Even so, I truly wish to see it once."

In the end, Sigurson spoke without being able to hide his true feelings, but the dwarves around him were the same.

They, who were said to be born with the eyes of craftsmen from the moment of their birth, had long since noticed that Vlad's armor and sword were no ordinary things.

"... Very well."

It did not feel good, as if he were performing a trick, but the dwarves before him were precious guests.

Thinking that drawing it from a distance should be all right, Vlad slowly drew the sword from its scabbard.

"..."

A blue light was circling it.

From Vlad's sword, which he had shown only very slightly.

Some of the dwarves who faced that flickering light were so startled they even dropped the sausages they had been chewing.

Sensing something suspicious in the dwarves' gradually changing gazes, Vlad quickly sheathed the sword, but the cheerful atmosphere from just now was not returning at all.

"Is there some problem with my sword?"

"..."

Drawn by the reflected light, Sigurson, who had practically fallen across the table, was still staring at Vlad's scabbard with dazed eyes.

In the space between the blue light that had vanished in haste.

Sigurson had clearly seen, in that space, a young lizard breathing fire toward him as if in greeting.